


Maybe Things Should Change

by peteor



Series: Chuckington Modern!AU [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Out, Meet the Family, Multi, minor homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 02:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peteor/pseuds/peteor
Summary: “I’m actually really excited,” Church says as they all sit in the living room, eating sandwiches and watching TV. “I haven’t seen your parents in years. Does your mom still have the funky hair?”“How should I know?” Tucker shrugs. “Last I saw them was the last time you saw them.”“That’s kinda fucked up, buddy.”“Meh,” Another shrug. “Dad works, Mom’s annoying, and they’re both kinda weird about… stuff.”Church mock-whispers to Wash. “We’re stuff.”--the fic where tucker comes out to his parents a year late





	Maybe Things Should Change

**Author's Note:**

> more fic from a chuckington modern!AU i write for sometimes. might throw the couple fics i now have posted into a series. either way, this fic can be read without context so no worries. :)
> 
> please comment and let me know what you think if you've got the time, thanks!

“So,” Tucker starts. Wash and Church tear their eyes away from the television to look at Tucker, who’s walked into the living room with a sandwich and a glass of chocolate milk. “My parents want to come over.”

“For real?” Church asks, looking about as surprised as Wash feels. “Both of ‘em? At the same time?”

Tucker sighs the single heaviest sigh Wash has ever heard from him. “Yeah? I guess? I dunno, Mom said ‘we’ so I assume Dad’s in town and is crashing at hers. Visiting was probably Dad’s idea.”

Wash has never met Tucker’s parents, but Church has, so Wash has picked up details from both men. From what he’s gathered, Tucker’s father is a model citizen who can do no wrong, while his mother is extremely conceited but ultimately a decent person.

They were a summer fling riding on the high that comes between high school and college, and both were, apparently, as forgetful as Tucker in the safe sex department. They broke up on excellent terms, and are apparently best friends to this day.

Mom’s a dental hygienist, dad’s a truck driver, and Tucker barely speaks to either of them. Which is why some red flags are going up in Wash’s mind about them both suddenly wanting to pop by for a visit.

Church also looks suspicious. “Why now? Not that I’m not super excited to see your parents again, but uh, isn’t it kinda weird how they suddenly want to visit?”

Tucker shrugs. “I dunno, dude. Maybe they want you to teach them about atomic theory again.”

“That was one conversation.”

“A fucking ten hour long conversation!” Tucker exclaims. Wash snorts. Tucker says to Wash, “It’s sad because I’m not exaggerating.”

“Maybe they wanna meet Wash,” Church suggests, giving Wash a look out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, with how you talk about him…”

Wash raises an eyebrow. “And how is that?”

Church continues, “You know, about how he’s been to juvie, how he threatens to kill you every other day, how he’s got a, quote, ‘shitton of badass tattoos and I think one of them might be from a gang.’”

Wash stares at Tucker. “You’re kidding.”

“Well you’re not the most exciting person in the world!” Tucker points out defensively, “Telling my parents you were probably in a gang is way cooler than telling them all you do is sit around and read books with your shitty old person glasses.” 

Church says, reluctantly, “He’s got a point.”

Wash drags a hand down his face. “You know,” he says, voice muffled by his palm. “I tend to make a bad first impression on parents all on my own. I didn’t need your help.”

“ _Bad_ impression?” Tucker laughs. “Dude, no fuckin’ way. They think you’re a badass! They seriously might ask for your autograph. My mom was gonna ask for your dick until I told her you were gay.”

“...I don’t follow.”

Church rolls his eyes. “Imagine two Tuckers, except they’re both eighteen years older, and one of them is a girl. That’s Mr Tucker and Ms Parks.”

“Well,” Wash says. “This is going to go great.”

—

The next morning, Tucker shakes both Wash and Church awake, which is something he knows he shouldn’t do but does anyway. Wash jumps out of bed and has his hand halfway to the nightstand drawer where he keeps his gun before he’s stopped by Tucker jumping in the way. He’s got a laundry hamper under his right arm, a Swiffer mop in his left hand, and a manic look in his eyes.

“My parents are gonna be here in five hours,” he says quickly. “So get up and get cleaning!”

“For fuck’s sake, Tucker,” Church says, already wide awake and pulling on a pair of jeans, while Wash is still rubbing his eyes and struggling to keep himself upright. “Your parents aren’t gonna care what the place looks like.”

“Yeah, but _I’m_ gonna care,” Tucker calls in response, already out of the bedroom and heading down the hall. “So get your ass up!”

Wash asks through a yawn, “What’s gotten into him?”

Church waves a hand. “I don’t fucking know. I swear, his relationship with his parents is more complicated than mine with my dad.”

“Really? I thought they were good people.”

“They are,” Church sighs, putting his arm through the sleeve of one of his band shirts. “I dunno, it’s weird. I always got the vibe that Tucker, uh, puts them on a pedestal? I guess. Like I said, man. Complicated.”

Wash hums. “The more parents I meet, the happier I am that I don’t have any.”

“Hey!” Tucker pokes his head into the room. “Less talking, more cleaning, guys, seriously.”

“Fuck you,” is Church’s kind and understanding reply.

“No, fuck _you_ ,” is Tucker’s ingenious rebuttal.

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Wash calls tiredly, finally standing up out of bed.

Church finishes buttoning his shirt, then grabs his cell phone off the table. With a small salute at Wash, he walks out of the bedroom and moments later, Wash hears the bathroom door shut, lock clicking. Wash sighs and shuffles out to the living room, where Tucker is.

“The place is pretty clean already, you know,” Wash points out. Then adds, a touch of bitterness in his tone, “No thanks to you.”

“You know I work better under pressure,” Tucker replies lightly, as he adjusts the painting on the wall for the fifth time since Wash entered the room. “Anyway, I made your grumpy ass some coffee, so go drink it and then clean! Shit! Up!”

Wash frowns and approaches Tucker. “Look, Tucker, I know you want to make a good impression on your parents, but you need to calm down just a bit, alright? It won’t be the end of the world if the picture is slightly crooked.”

Tucker sighs and steps away from the painting, giving Wash an annoyed look. “I don’t need a lecture right now, dude.”

“I’m not trying to _lecture_ you-”

“What _other than_ a lecture starts out with ‘Look, Tucker?’”

“I-” Wash pauses, then frowns. “Actually, good point.”

“No shit,” Tucker huffs, annoyed. “Whatever, I don’t have time to be mad at you right now, I’m over it.”

Wash shrugs. “Alright.”

He heads into the kitchen where a pot of coffee sits. Upon closer observation, Wash sees a used coffee mug already in the sink, and suddenly Tucker’s behaviour makes more sense. Wash groans and rinses out the cup.

“Tucker, did you drink caffeine?!”

“Maybe!”

“Didn’t we all agree you aren’t supposed to drink caffeine?!”

“Probably!”

“For god’s sake,” Wash mutters under his breath, grabbing his own coffee mug and pouring himself a cup. “All this for _parents_.”

Church pops up at Wash’s side with an, “I know, right?”

Wash shakes his head. “I know that I won’t ever understand, but this has to be too much, right? We don’t even clean up this much when _your_ dad comes over.”

“You’re asking me like _I_ understand,” Church replies. “I told you, shit’s complicated. _Tucker’s_ fucking complicated. I can usually figure him out, but there’s that one time out of ten where I’m at a complete fucking loss.”

Wash points at the mug in the sink. “He drank coffee.”

“Oh, for-” Church runs a hand through his hair. “Tucker! You fuck! We agreed you wouldn’t drink coffee!”

“I don’t see the big deal!”

“Oh, he doesn’t see the big deal,” Church announces sarcastically. Then yells, again, “I hate you!”

“Hate you more!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck your mom!”

“My mom’s dead, you fucking necrophiliac!”

Wash takes a long sip of his coffee and considers praying to God to remove his boyfriends’ vocal chords.

—

“I’m actually really excited,” Church says as they all sit in the living room, eating sandwiches and watching TV. “I haven’t seen your parents in years. Does your mom still have the funky hair?”

“How should I know?” Tucker shrugs. “Last _I_ saw them was the last time _you_ saw them.”

“That’s kinda fucked up, buddy.”

“Meh,” Another shrug. “Dad works, Mom’s annoying, and they’re both kinda weird about… stuff.”

Church mock-whispers to Wash. “We’re stuff.”

“They’re not homophobes or anything,” Tucker says quickly when Wash raises an eyebrow. “But I mean, come on, you’d be weird too if your apparently straight son was, like, living with two gay guys.”

“Bi,” Church corrects at the same time Wash says, “‘Living with?’”

Wash continues, “I really hope they know you’re doing a little more than living with us.”

Both Church and Tucker look sheepish. 

“I can’t believe you.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell them,” Tucker says. “But-”

“It’s been a _year_!”

Church says, “Yeah, Tucker, he’s got a point. It’s been a year.”

“I haven’t seen them in a year,” Tucker says defensively. “I wasn’t gonna, like, tell them over the phone!”

Wash asks, “Why not?”

“‘Cause they think he’s straight,” Church explains when all Tucker does is make a frustrated noise. “I can see where he’s coming from, I mean, you don’t really want to come out to your parents over the phone.”

“Okay, _you_ ,” Wash points at Church. “Shut up. Stop taking both sides - and no, now’s not the time for a bi joke, so hold your tongue,” he rounds on Tucker. “You have _absolutely_ no excuse. I understand your father is gone a lot, but your mother lives not even an hour away. I would have drove you down there myself so you could tell her.”

“Yeah, well,” Tucker mutters, scratching at the leather on his chair. “You didn’t.”

“Because I didn’t know you hadn’t told her!” Wash screeches.

And right then, there’s a knock at the door.

Tucker says, “Fuuuuuck.”

Church says, “I’ll get it,” and hurries out of the room like he’d been waiting for a chance to escape for hours. 

Wash glares at Tucker and says, “If you don’t tell them, I will.”

“Dude, don’t joke about that.”

“You think I’m joking?”

Tucker pales. “Wash, seriously, not right now, I-”

“Lavernius!” A man says happily as he enters the living room.

Tucker’s father, named Foster, Wash remembers, is in a plaid button-up shirt with rolled up sleeves under a faded leather jacket, and denim jeans with torn holes in the knees - not the fashionable kind, more like the kind that comes from wearing the same pair of jeans over and over for years. He’s got a handsome face; looks more like Tucker’s twin brother than father, aside from the visibly receding hairline and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

He smiles warmly at Tucker and pulls him into a hug, slapping his back once and then holding him at arm’s length, both hands on Tucker’s shoulders. “You look good, kid. Been hitting the gym?”

While Tucker laughs and responds with a, “You know it,” Wash gives Tucker’s mother a once-over.

Her name’s Theresa. She is one of the most beautiful women Wash has ever seen, and the way she holds herself shows that she knows it. Her hair is magenta, with lighter pink highlights, and is cut and styled to frame her thin face. She’s wearing a pale blue tube top and a black miniskirt, with electric blue leggings and black heels that Wash can’t imagine anyone being able to stand up in.

With her heels on, she’s taller than Tucker, which Wash notices when she’s next to hug him, wrapping her arms around her son’s neck and giving him several kisses on the cheek.

She asks, “Have you lost weight?”

“Not really,” Tucker replies, sounding somewhat uncomfortable. “But good to know that’s still the first thing you ask me when you see me after, like, three years. Anyway,” He waves his hand towards Church and Wash. “You already know Church, and that guy’s Wash, Church’s boyfriend.”

“It’s so good to see you again, Church,” Foster says. Then turns to Wash and holds his hand out. “And it’s nice to meet you, finally. I’ve heard a lot about you. My name is Foster.”

“Washington,” Wash replies, taking Foster’s hand and shaking it. “I’ve heard a lot about you too, sir.”

“And me, I hope,” Theresa butts in, elbowing Foster aside and taking Wash’s hand. She bites her lip and looks at Wash through her eyelashes. “You’re _way_ hotter than I was picturing.”

“Wow, Mom,” Tucker deadpans.

“Hands off my boyfriend, Ma,” Church teases.

Theresa laughs. “Listen, Wash,” she says, shaking Wash’s hand and smirking at him. “Sometimes a woman’s gotta speak her mind.”

Wash tries to stop his face from turning red and fails miserably. He looks at the carpet and mutters, “Right.”

“Okay!” Tucker says loudly, walking towards the hall. “Time for the grand tour of this tiny-ass apartment!”

“Fuck yeah, lemme see your digs, kiddo,” Foster replies, pumping his fist. Theresa rolls her eyes and slaps his shoulder playfully, and then they follow Tucker down the hall.

“So,” Church says. “What do you think?”

“I…” Wash mumbles. “I’m not sure _what_ to think.”

Church laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, they’re like two other Tuckers. They’ll grow on you.”

“That’s assuming _Tucker’s_ grown on me.”

“Oh, come on, none of that,” Church snorts. “You can’t fool me, you love that idiot.” 

“Love is a strong word,” Wash points out. “But you’re right. I do like him. Sometimes.”

Church rolls his eyes and steps in front of Wash, standing on his toes and putting his arms over Wash’s shoulders. He leans in and Wash meets him halfway. They kiss for a long few seconds, Wash relaxing against Church, letting him lead the movement of their lips.

When they part, Wash smiles at Church and says, “I love you.”

“Thought love was too strong a word for you.”

“Well in this case, it’s accurate.”

Church grins.

—

They all meet back together in the living room. Theresa and Foster take the couch, and Wash thinks they’re sitting a little too close for platonic friends. Tucker doesn’t seem bothered, though, sitting in his favourite chair and catching up with his parents about this and that. Wash and Church are at the other side of the room, in the small loveseat by the balcony door. They’re listening to the conversation between Tucker and his parents, but don’t have much to contribute.

Right when Church gets bored enough to take Wash’s hand and play with his fingers, they bring them into the conversation.

“So Church,” Theresa says, “You’ve been getting busy since we last talked.”

Church takes Wash’s hand firmly in his. “Yeah, man, I keep forgetting it’s been a few years since I’ve seen you guys.”

“How long have you two been together?” Foster asks.

“Two years,” Wash answers, this time. “Or, over two years now, I guess."

Church nods. “Around there. We have our anniversary written down on a calendar somewhere, so y’know.” 

Foster laughs. “Serious but casual. Love it,” he jerks his thumb over to point at Tucker. “Couldn’t shake this kid off of you even when you two moved in together?”

Church snickers. “Believe me, buddy, I tried. Turns out, he’s nothing without me.”

Tucker says, “Asshole,” and folds his arms.

“He has a point,” Wash joins in on the playful ribbing, addressing Foster. “Turns out, it’s much easier to have him live here than to get a call from Tucker every five minutes asking how to do basic life things.”

“You’re both assholes.”

Church continues, “Yeah, but at least I’m an asshole that knows how to do laundry.”

Theresa glares at Tucker. “I taught you how to do laundry!”

“I forgot!” Tucker protests. “I forget stuff a lot, in case you didn’t know.”

“Either way,” Foster says with a chuckle, addressing Wash. “Thanks for not stealing Church away from my kid. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if Church was gone.”

“Everyone in this room is an asshole, apparently,” Tucker grumbles, but it’s still light-hearted. “Dad, seriously, I _am_ a person without Church, you know. I survived without him for a year!”  

Church and Wash both say, “Barely.”

Everyone laughs, and then they move on. Wash gets more comfortable with the parents as they continue to share stories from the present day and also in the past, when Tucker was younger. Most of these stories would thoroughly embarrass most people, but Tucker was rolling with it, which Wash didn’t find surprising.

What _was_ surprising was the amount of embarrassing stories Theresa had about Church. While Wash knows Church and Tucker were best friends since junior high, he underestimated how much time Church spent with the family.

Eventually, Wash and Church got up to cook dinner, leaving Tucker and his parents to get caught up some more.

“He needs to tell them, Church,” Wash says under his breath.

Church shrugs a shoulder. “He will. You just gotta give him time.”

Wash pinches the bridge of his nose. “You coddle him, you know that?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Church mumbles, sifting his way through the fridge. “I _know_ I put fucking chicken in here last night.”

“Forget the chicken, Church,” Wash says, closing the fridge on Church, who rights himself and gives Wash an unimpressed look. “Doesn’t it bother you? How… insecure he is in this relationship?”

Church runs a hand through his hair and looks aside. “Of course it bothers me. But outing him to his parents isn’t going to make him any more, like, confident, or whatever you think.” 

“You know I’d never.”

“Yeah, I know,” Church replies, opening the fridge and crouching down again. “But you know what I mean. I dunno, I don’t get why you’re so hung up on him not telling his parents. He doesn’t tell his parents _anything_.”

“It just feels dishonest,” Wash explains. “I spent enough of my life keeping my sexuality and relationships a secret, I don’t want to start telling half-truths again just to protect Tucker against parents that, apparently, aren’t even homophobic.”

Church replies, “Good point, but you’re telling it to the wrong person.”

Wash sighs. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Church scoffs. “So go talk to Tucker, I’ll entertain the parents, and then we’ll all go out for, hopefully, a ‘Big Announcement’ dinner. Since, you know, I totally forgot to defrost the chicken last night.”

“Somehow, I doubt it’s going to be that easy,” Wash says bitterly. “He’s not a fan of my ‘lectures.’”

“ _Somehow_ ,” Church mocks, “I think you’ll find a way to talk to him without lecturing him.”

Wash rolls his eyes and heads out to the living room, standing aside and waiting for a break in the conversation.

“Don’t you ever feel like a third wheel?” Foster asks. “Just think, if you got your own place, you wouldn’t have to live with a couple. Which is annoying, I know, I’ve been there.”

“And sleeping on the couch _can’t_ be good for you,” Theresa continues, a manicured hand twirling a strand of hair by her cheek. “I can’t imagine, not having a bed every night!”

“‘S alright,” Tucker shrugs, the raises his eyebrows at them. “Since when did you guys get so concerned about me and what I do? It’s fuckin’ weird.”

Foster laughs. “Well, there’s a reason we wanted to visit, today, you know.”

“Uh, really? Why?”

Then all three of them notice Wash eavesdropping. Theresa waggles her fingers at him, and Wash forces a smile in return. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” Wash says politely, looking at Tucker. “Can I talk to you, for a minute?”

Foster reaches over and pats Tucker’s knee. “We’ll tell you later, ‘kay?”

Tucker looks wary for a moment, but then shrugs and stands up. “A’ight,” he says, and then follows Wash to the bedroom. 

Wash closes the door behind him, and immediately, Tucker rounds on him.

“Dude, listen, I _know_ it’s shitty that I’m lying to them, I don’t need you getting mad at me about it.”

Wash holds his hands up and keeps his voice even. “I’m not going to get mad at you, and I’m not going to lecture you. I just want to know why you won’t tell them.”

Tucker folds his arms. “Why do you _want_ me to tell them so bad?”

Wash tells Tucker what he told Church. About how dishonesty is a pet peeve for him in general, and about how he wants to be proud of who he is and who he’s with. With _everyone_.  

“And that includes your parents,” Wash finishes. Tucker’s expression has softened, though he still looks defensive, with his arms folded and shoulders back. “What I can’t understand, is why _you_ don’t want that. It took years for you to figure yourself out. But now, as far as I know, at least, you’re proud of who you are and where you’re at.”

“I _am_ ,” Tucker says immediately.

“Then why don’t you want to share that with two people who are obviously very important to you?”

Tucker’s quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he says, “I don’t know.”

Wash facepalms.

“I know that’s a shitty reason,” Tucker grumbles. “But I seriously don’t fucking know. I guess I just don’t want things to be weird.”

“If they’re good people, things won’t be weird.”

“See, that’s what everyone says,” Tucker snaps, beginning to pace around the room. “‘Just tell them, if they’re good parents, friends, whatever, then it won’t be weird. Things won’t change.’ But things _will_ change.”

Wash asks, “What if that change is for the better?”

Tucker scoffs. “Yeah, you say that like I haven’t asked myself the same fuckin’ question.” He stops pacing and sits on the edge of the bed, staring down at his lap. “I think about stuff sometimes, you know.”

“Really,” Wash replies sarcastically, walking over to the bed and sitting next to Tucker. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Tucker carries on, ignoring Wash’s comment. “Like, what if I told them, y’know? I told Junior’s mom, and she was cool with it. The guys all know, and they’re assholes but they don’t really care. So why should my parents care? They’re, like, the coolest people on the planet. Aside from me and Junior. But when I think about telling them, I always get this weird feeling in my gut, like I _know_ it’s going to go wrong, and I shouldn’t ever tell them, or anyone.”

Wash smirks. “We call that feeling ‘anxiety.’” 

“Whatever, I hate it.”

“Most people do.”

Tucker glares. “Are you making fun of me?”

Wash can’t help but laugh. “No, no, sorry. Carry on."

“Nah,” Tucker shrugs. “That’s about it. After I feel terrible like that, I just start thinking of better things, and I can forget about it. It’s not like I see my parents much, anyway, so I don’t have to think about it a _lot_.”  

“Look, Tucker-”

“I shouldn’t avoid my problems, yeah, I know,” Tucker snaps. “Don’t go into lecture mode on me, dude. I prefer you better when you’re like this.”

“Like… what?”

“I dunno. Like, soft.”

“Soft.”

“Don’t make me get gay, dude,” Tucker huffs, then looks at the far wall with a pout. “Sometimes you’re nice to me, that’s all.”

“Well sometimes, you’re not an idiot,” Wash replies teasingly. Tucker elbows him and keeps his eyes on the wall. “And sometimes, I can relate to what you’re going through, and I want to help.”

“Can you magically predict the future and find out how weird my parents are gonna be about it?”

Wash rolls his eyes. “You know I can’t.”

Tucker throws his hands up. “Then I don’t know how you’re gonna help! Unless…”

Wash asks, “Do you have an idea?”

“...Can you tell them for me?”

“ _Tucker_.”

“Meh. Worth a shot.” 

Church pounds on the door. “Are you guys done in there? We’re all starving.” 

“In a minute,” Wash calls. Then he stands up and puts his hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “Look, I’m not going to try to force you to tell them. And I’m not going to feed you bullshit like ‘nothing will change,’ because yes, you’re right. Things are going to change. But things _should_ change. You _should_ stop hiding such a large part of your life - of your _identity_ \- from your parents.”

Tucker nods. “Yeah, I know. But, uh, seriously, dude. Can you tell them instead?”

“Absolutely not.”

—

They go to a local place that Church and Theresa both like. Wash and Tucker are seated across from Foster and Theresa, with Church at the head of the table.

“So why’d you guys want to visit?” Tucker asks once they get their appetizers. “You said there was a reason, but Wash dragged me off before you could tell me.”

Theresa and Foster exchange a glance.

“Well, uh,” Foster scratches the back of his head and glances at Wash. “We were hoping for somewhere a little more private to tell you.”

“Wash and I can go out for a cigarette or something,” Church offers. “Let you guys have your talk.”

Theresa groaned. “Come on, Foster, just tell the kid, who cares if his friends are here.”

Foster whines, “Why can’t _you_ tell him,” in a way that reminds Wash of Tucker way too much.

“Fine,” Theresa takes a deep breath, then says, “Foster and I have been dating for a few months. So, yeah, we’re back together.” 

Wash and Church exchange a surprised glance, and then every eye is on Tucker.

“Uh,” Tucker says, looking back and forth between parents. “Why?”

Foster says, “Because we want to be, buddy.”

“But _why_ ,” Tucker says again. “Like, why not, y’know, ten years ago. Or twenty years ago. Or fuckin- twenty five years ago - why’d you even break up in the first place if you’re back together now? It’s not like you guys have really _changed_ or anything.”

“From when we were eighteen?” Theresa raises her eyebrows. “We’ve changed a lot since we were _eighteen_ , Lavernius.”

“Well I think it’s stupid,” Tucker folds his arms and asks, “Why the hell didn’t you get together again sometime in the last twenty five years, then? Why now?”

“We’ve been seeing other people, figuring ourselves out,” Foster explains with a shrug. “I dunno, kid. Now is just the right time, I guess. Feels right, at least.”

“I’ve dated a lot of guys,” Theresa adds. “Like, a _lot_. But none of them made me feel the way Foster did. There’s just something special, when you find the one. You’ll feel that, someday.”

Wash can’t help but smile when Tucker’s eyes dart over to Church for a brief second.

“We just wanted to tell you, once we knew it was serious. You know, that this is what we want,” Foster says. “So… here we are.”

Tucker asks, “So why are you telling me? You’re adults, _I’m_ an adult, you guys can do what you want.”

“Your support would be nice,” Theresa says sarcastically. “Sure, we’re all big kids that can do what we want, but hate to break it to you, no matter how old you get, you’re still our kid. We wanted to make sure it wouldn’t change things too much for you. Or us, as a family.”

This time, Tucker glances at Wash.

“Well,” Tucker says slowly. “Maybe things _should_ change, if it makes you happy.”

“So you’re cool with it?” Foster asks, a smile spreading on his face. “You’re not too weirded out or anything?”

Tucker shakes his head and smiles. “Nah, I’m happy for you guys.”

Foster says, “Sweet,” and then high-fives Theresa. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Tucker takes a deep breath and clears his throat. “Uh, not to jump onto your big announcement bandwagon, or anything, but I kind of have something to tell you, too.” 

Theresa says, “ _Please_ don’t tell me you got _another_ teenager pregnant.”

“Ew, _no_ , mom. I’m twenty five, what the fuck?!”

“Just making sure!” She says. “I love Junior, but I would kick your ass if you did it a _second_ time.”

“Well I _didn’t_ ,” Tucker groans. “I’d kick my own ass if I did. No, it’s not that.”

Then he goes quiet, even though Theresa and Foster are both obviously waiting for him to continue. Wash catches Church’s eye and purses his lips. Church raises his eyebrows and then looks back to Tucker, who’s looking down at the table and scratching the back of his neck.

Foster asks, “Well?”

“Uh,” Tucker starts, clearing his throat a second time. “You know how Church and Wash are together? Well, uh, I’m kinda together, too. With them. Like, in a relationship, and all that stuff.”

Silence.

Then Foster says, with a smirk, “‘All that stuff’ totally means boning, right?”

Tucker exclaims, “Oh my god, Dad, fuck you.” Foster starts laughing. “Seriously, I’m gonna kill you. Why the fuck is that the first thing you say after I _literally_ come out to you?!”  

“I’m sorry,” Foster replies, voice muffled due to his head being into his hands, shoulders still shaking as he laughs. “But come on, kid, jesus, that’s what you get for dropping a bomb on me like that!”

Tucker shrugs, his cheeks growing dark as he blushes. “Whatever,” then he turns to Theresa, who is looking from Wash to Church to Tucker with her lips pressed tight together. “What do you think, Mom?”

She raises her eyebrows and makes a half-smirk with her lips. “So… what? It’s like some gay threeway every other night?”

Church says, “It’s a relationship, Ma. The three of us, all together. Constantly, not just every other night.”

“Wow, alright,” Theresa’s smirk falls as she looks at Tucker. “So, what, you’re gay now?”

“I dunno, does it matter?” Tucker snaps, defensive. Wash slides a hand over his knee and squeezes his thigh, and Tucker relaxes a little.

“Uh, yes?” Theresa replies. “Why _wouldn’t_ it matter?”

“Some people don’t like labels,” Church offers.

Theresa rolls her eyes and asks, “What are you, Church?”

“…bisexual?”

“No doubt?”

“No, but-”

She turns to Wash. “What are _you_.”

Wash looks her in the eye and replies, “Why does it matter?” 

“Because, it- it just _does_ ,” she says, sounding defensive now, herself. “I’ve got a straight son, a gay son, or something in-between.”

“Why can’t you just have a son?” Wash asks calmly. “Who happens to be in a healthy and loving relationship with two men.”

“I saw it coming,” Foster says, out of the blue. “Since Tucker and Church first started becoming friends. You guys were closer than friends, sometimes. I could tell. And Wash is right,” he turns to Theresa. “It really doesn’t matter, babe. That shit can take a while to figure out, y’know? Like some _other_ things in life.”

“So you two move in together,” Theresa points at Church and Wash. “Then you bring Lavernius into your relationship as some glorified third wheel. How does that _work_?”

“I don’t know, it just does,” Church shrugs. “I love him, and I love Wash. Differently, for different reasons, but the same. And Tucker and Wash, well, they’re getting there.”

Wash rolls his eyes. “We’re fine.”

“Yeah, dude, fuck you,” Tucker says, but he’s smiling.

Theresa starts twirling her hair by her cheek again. “You’re totally not fucking with us, are you?” she asks, awe in her voice. “You’re actually all gay for these guys, now.”

“I’m not gay,” Tucker says. “I still like girls, even more than I like dudes.”

“Ugh, this is too confusing,” Theresa says with an eyeroll. “Why’d you even tell me this?”

“Wha-” Tucker splutters. “Well- why did you tell me about you and dad?!”

“Uh, because it was important for you to know?”

“And this isn’t?!”

“No way,” Theresa scoffs. “Something like this isn’t going to _last_. I mean, Lavernius, come on, when was the last time you were in a relationship that lasted longer than six months?”

Tucker’s leg is bouncing rapidly under Wash’s hand as he replies, “Right now, Mom. Like, seriously, right now, with Church and Wash.”

“…Oh.”

Foster mutters, “Careful you don’t choke on that foot in your mouth, babe.”

Wash snorts.

“Well, good for you, then,” Theresa says, tone rigid and bordering on scathing. “I hope it works out.”

“Yeah?” Tucker asks, voice no less harsh. “Well I hope you and Dad _don’t_. Because he deserves _way_ better than you.”

Then he stands up and storms out. Wash, without skipping a beat, gets up to go after him, but pauses before he takes a step. He turns to the remaining three people at the table.

Foster is looking sadly at Tucker’s vacated seat, Theresa is still twirling her hair and glaring aside, and Church is glaring at Theresa. But he takes his eyes off of her to look at Wash and say, “Go.”

Wash nods and walks away, the last thing heard from the table being Church’s, “What the fuck is your problem, Theresa?” 

—

Tucker didn’t go far. Wash hadn’t expected him to.

He’s pacing around in circles outside the restaurant, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his shorts. When he sees Wash, he stops, glares, and asks, “What do you want?”

Wash doesn’t reply. He just shrugs and pulls out his cigarettes, standing just off to the side of Tucker’s pacing course. He lights one and takes a deep inhale, trying to catch Tucker’s eye again. 

Finally, Tucker stops pacing and steps in front of Wash, staring up at him with an expression of pure rage on his face. “I told you it’d go bad.”

“I thought your parents weren’t homophobic.”

“They’re not- they’re not _supposed to be_ ,” Tucker says, desperation in his tone. “ _She’s_ not supposed to be like _that_.”

Wash starts, “Tucker-”

“You don’t get it,” Tucker snaps, interrupting Wash. “You don’t fucking get it, Wash, so don’t get all soft with me like you ‘understand what I’m going through,’ or whatever bullshit you said earlier! You know, there’s a reason I try not to talk to that _bitch_ -” He cuts himself off, looking stricken.

Wash waits for him to continue, but all he does is tuck his hands under his upper arms and look down at his feet, an angry expression still on his face.

Wash tries again. “Tucker, your parents aren’t perfect. That’s nothing to be ashamed of, or… whatever’s going on.” He sighs. “You’re right, I don’t understand any of this, and I’m not going to pretend to. But your mother was being very awful in that restaurant, and you shouldn’t be afraid to call her a bitch, or call her out on it.”

“She’s a _good person_.”

“I know, but-”

Tucker shakes his head. “No, you don’t. You think she’s terrible. Just like everyone else fuckin’ does,” he laughs weakly, then shrugs and sticks his hands in his pockets again. “People didn’t think I heard, y’know? When I was little. They called her irresponsible, a bad mom, a slut. Racist shit, too. Like, ‘of course someone _like that_ would have a kid as a teenager.’”

Wash is starting to understand.

Tucker continues, “And I dunno, I guess they didn’t know she _chose_ to have me. My grandpa had money, could have got her an abortion, whatever. But she wanted to keep me, because she had a job, was in school, living with her dad who wanted to help raise me, had _my_ dad’s support a hundred percent. She _was_ responsible. And she was a _good fuckin’ mom_!”  

“Tucker,” Wash says, putting a hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “I _know_ your mother is a good person. But it’s not black and white, and you can’t protect her unconditionally. You can’t feel guilty about being pissed at her for that shit she just pulled.”

Tucker shakes his head. “I’m not guilty,” he says quietly, still staring at the ground. “I just don’t want them to be right.”

Wash doesn’t know what to say.

After a beat of silence, Tucker laughs nervously. “Man, I never really told all that to anyone before.”

Wash smiles. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Tucker looks up at Wash and grins. “Little bit.”

Wash says, “We don’t have to go back in, if you don’t want to.”

Tucker replies, “Bitch, please, _nothing’s_ keeping me from that burger I ordered.”

—

Everyone at the table is tense and silent when Wash and Tucker return. Church reaches over and clasps the back of Tucker’s neck as Tucker sits down, and Tucker gives him a half-smile before digging into his burger that had arrived while they were outside.

Finally, Theresa breaks the silence. “Lavernius…”

Tucker says, mouth full, “The next word outta your mouth better be ‘sorry’ or I’m gonna be pissed.”

Theresa sighs and says, “I’m sorry.”

“‘Kay,” Tucker says, then pauses to swallow his food. “...you’re _actually_ sorry though, right? And not just saying it ‘cause I said so?”

“I’m _actually_ sorry,” she promises. “I said some pretty rude shit.”

“Yeah, you did,” Tucker says with a glare. “And I’m pretty pissed about it, so I kinda want you to leave.”

As Theresa balks, Foster asks, “Can I stay?” 

“Sure.”

“Nice,” Foster grins. Theresa glares at him. “What? I’m mad at you too, babe.”

“Whatever,” Theresa says, standing up and collecting her things in her purse. She addresses Wash, “Now you see why I never visit.”

Wash replies, “Now I’m glad you don’t,” ignoring the warning look Tucker shoots him.

She storms off, and Foster whistles lowly.

“Maybe dating her again is a bad idea,” He says sheepishly, looking at Tucker. “I hope you know I’m in your corner, kiddo.”

“Back at ya,” Tucker smiles. “Do what makes you happy, Dad.”

—

Foster departs later, after hanging out with the guys for a while. Tucker walks him to his car, their arms slung around each other, leaving Wash and Church alone in the restaurant.

“What a shit-show,” Church groans, rubbing his forehead. “I swear, Wash, she’s usually a lot cooler. I don’t know what the fuck she was doing, saying that shit.” 

Wash is still turned around, watching Tucker and his father walk off. “Tucker handled it well.”

“He stormed out of the restaurant after wishing doom upon his parents’ relationship,” Church deadpans. “About that, what’d you guys talk about, out there? He doing okay?” Church pauses, then frowns, averting his gaze. “I ask ‘cause he doesn’t really talk to me about stuff. Seems like you get through to him easier than me.”

“Hey,” Wash says with a half smile, leaning forward on his elbow and tilting his head until he catches Church’s eye. “Like you told Theresa, we all have different relationships. I think Tucker worries about what you think of him more than he does with me.”

“I used to be smug about that,” Church smirks, but it falls quick. “Now it’s just shitty.”

Wash shrugs. “It is what it is. He’ll open up eventually. …Hopefully.”

“It’s _Tucker_ ,” Church rolls his eyes. “I don’t think he’s what we’d call a dynamic character. He’s kind of consistent in his douchebaggery.”

—

Tucker sighs with relief when they get home, kicking his shoes aside and dropping his hoodie on the floor. Wash huffs and picks up after him, only to turn around and see Church had done the exact same thing seconds later.

“I hate both of you,” Wash mutters to himself, hanging up both hoodies and setting both pairs of shoes on the shoe rack.

“Thank god _that’s_ over,” Tucker groans, falling backwards onto the couch. Church follows him, climbing on top of him on the couch and kissing his cheek, before resting his head on Tucker’s chest. Tucker waves at Wash. “Dude, get over here and remove your Leonard.”

“Maybe he wants to cuddle you, tonight, and not me.”

“Fuck that,” Tucker taps the top of Church’s head with his finger. “Hey, asshole.”

“What.”

“Go cuddle Wash.”

Church ignores him, propping his chin up on Tucker’s chest and asking, “What’d you and Wash talk about outside?”

Tucker scoffs. “Wash can tell you, I’m too tired for another talk about feelings.”

“Tucker…” Wash says, unimpressed.

Tucker groans. “Fine. I’ve got mommy issues up the ass. The end.”

Church laughs, and then Tucker laughs, and then Wash laughs despite himself and joins them on the couch, lifting both sets of his boyfriends’ legs and then placing them on his thighs after he’s sat.

Wash is the first to stop laughing, followed by Church, and then Tucker who, after his laughter trails off, looks up at the ceiling and says, “This is gonna last. Right?”

Church replies, “I sure fuckin’ hope so.”

Wash looks at Church, nuzzling into Tucker’s chest, and Tucker, smiling crookedly up at the ceiling as he threads his fingers through Church’s hair, and a warm feeling swirls up in his chest, creating a lump in his throat.

He swallows hard and keeps his voice steady and sure when he says, “You know, I think it just might.”


End file.
